


Escape Artists

by i_write_a_lot



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, White Collar
Genre: Action/Adventure, Captives, Case Fic, Crossover, Escape, Friendship, Gen, Hydra, Kidnapping, Other - Freeform, Prisoners, Team, artwork, escape artists, tiny Winter Soldier spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 23:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1620845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_a_lot/pseuds/i_write_a_lot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Neal was sitting in his cell, trying to figure out if he could somehow get a message to Peter, when the door to his cell abruptly yanked open, and someone was flung inside-someone with a metallic arm, and who was clearly having a bad hair day.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Escape Artists

**Author's Note:**

> -I do not own White Collar, Captain America, or the Avengers.
> 
> -Apologies for any errors, this fic is unbeta'd, and kind of a spur of the moment thing; I'm more familiar with White Collar than I am with the Winter Soldier as well. 
> 
> -Kudos and Comments are much love! Questions are also welcome.

Neal was sitting in his cell, trying to figure out if he could somehow get a message to Peter, when the door to his cell abruptly yanked open, and someone was flung inside-someone with a metallic arm, and who was clearly having a bad hair day. 

“Get in there!” A guard shouted at the guy who was being put into Neal’s cell. The guard threw Neal a nasty smirk and said, “You’re not gonna live long with him, traitor!”

And the door slammed ominously shut.

Neal and the metallic-armed stranger stared at each other for a few, long moments before Neal got the courage to speak.

“So, uh…I’m Neal Caffrey,” He introduced. He was, after all, the ‘people’s person’. Maybe he could prevent this guy from hurting him or something. 

Whoever the hell this guy was.

The guy remained silent, instead turning around as though examining the room. He crouched, and then jumped up onto the top metal part of the end of the ‘bed’ that Neal had slept on a bit. Neal gaped at him.

“What are you doing?”

His roommate looked at him with a frown, and said, 

“You’ll be safer if you follow me. I’m going to try to get us back out to the alley, but I didn’t have time to memorize the schemantics for this place before infiltrating it. Even so, Steve and the others will likely be here later.” He said, and Neal stared in shock as the guy ripped open a part of the ceiling-the air vent-as though it was nothing with his metallic arm.

Clearly he was one of those superheros that Peter was always going on about.

“Do you have something I can call you by?” Neal asked, as he got up onto the bed to follow him. He figured what the hell, the worst that could happen was that he could die. 

“Bucky,” Came the muffled answer as the metallic-armed guy was now in the vent. Neal quickly accepted a hand up into the vent, and the darkness was at first hard to see by, but then his eyes began to adjust, and he could see that Bucky was already down the ‘hall’. 

“Hey!” Neal quickly scrambled after him, moving as fast as he could. He wondered if maybe they were both escape artists, they were clearly both good at moving through air vents like they were; though it had been some time since he’d been in air vents like these, however, so it was a bit of a slow start. The cool air helped, to a point, but it also felt more like a blanket-suffocating him in this tiny place. 

Then he abruptly slammed into Bucky’s backside as he’d apparently caught up to him. He moved back a bit, wincing-the guy was built like a brick-and embarrassed. 

“You move fast,” Bucky observed. 

“Yeah, it’s part of my specialty,” Neal admitted, waiting patiently for some advice on what to do next. Peter was probably going to fuss at him for just automatically trusting this guy, but at least he was no longer in that tiny cell. He’d been there for a week, as far as he could tell, and he was surprised that Hydra hadn’t killed him before then. 

But maybe this guy was intending to?

If so, then his methods of attempting to kill him was utterly bizarre.

“Steve and the others are two minutes out,” Bucky said suddenly, making him start. Neal watched him. “Steve says to get clear as possible, they’re intending on blowing this place.”

“No, wait! There’s art work here-I’ve got to recover it!” Neal said, panicked. “It’s worth over two million dollars, and Peter and our team has been working on months to get it back!” 

Bucky stared at him as though he were insane.

“You want to stay to recover art,” Bucky said, after a minutes-as though questioning his sanity. Neal would've been more offended, but he'd grown far to used to Peter and the others being the same way with him whenever he issued such 'insane' statements in previous cases.

“It’s part of our case,” Neal reiterated. “I’m a consultant for White Collar Crime, with the FBI.” He waited with baited breath, hoping against hope-  
Bucky appeared to consider, and then said, 

“Ten minutes,” 

Neal scrambled, taking him by surprise, and moving ahead of him. He already knew the layout of this place, and if the artwork was in that same room like it was supposed to be, he could grab it, and then they could walk out the front doors. He could hear Bucky moving behind him.

They finally made it to the room with the artwork, and he scrambled aside and looked up at Bucky. 

“Can we get down there?”

Bucky carefully lifted the air vent, and set it behind him. Light flooded into the tiny area they were in, and Neal looked down to see the artwork laying on a large, clean, white table. As far as he could see from where he was at, it was the right art.

Except for the fact that there were fifteen other pieces in there too.

“How the hell am I going to get fifteen pieces of art out of here in less than ten minutes?” 

“Five,” Bucky corrected him absently, staring down. “We could both carry a handful of them, but not all of them.” He offered.

Neal grimaced, knowing that time was short. His mind flipped through idea after idea-

“Got it,” He said, suddenly. “Okay-help me down,” 

Bucky gently lowered him into the room, and then fell into the room, landing on his feet. Neal quickly gathered all the art pieces onto a rolling thing-what was it called?-and turned to Bucky. 

“You’re going to have to play guard, making me move the pieces to a van outside-”

“Not a problem,” Bucky said smoothly, making Neal blink.

“Ah…okay,” He said, suddenly doubtful. “Let’s go,” He said, after a few seconds. 

They managed to get out of the room without any trouble-it was locked from the inside, after all-and soon they had gone a few hallways down, and Neal could see the front doors of the building looming closer and closer-

“What the hell do you two think you’re-oh, I’m sorry, Winter Soldier.” The man stammered, seeing him almost immediately as Bucky turned around to face the guard. 

Neal gaped.

If he hadn’t spent time with Moz, who was fanatical about Captain America, or Peter who was also just as fantastical-the one thing that his two best friends shared in common-he would have no idea who the guard meant.

But clearly the guard believed that this was the Winter Soldier, the enemy of Captain America…

Who was currently helping him to escape.

Neal swallowed, as Bucky said calmly,

“We’re moving the art. The Avengers has found us, and I suggest that you demand that all agents leave this building immediately, for they are planning on blowing this place up sky high.”

“Yes, sir!” The guard saluted, and quickly began issues orders into his radio, as he moved off at a run, obviously intent on getting everyone out.

Bucky glanced back at Neal.

“Two minutes,” Bucky said calmly, and Neal hastily moved to the front door, wheeling the art out and soon both of them were outside again.

As soon as they were outside in the fresh air, Neal paused and took a deep, calming breath. He hadn’t seen sunlight in a long while-longer than a week-and the sun was giving him a headache. Bucky reached towards him, and tugged him into walking again, and soon they were far from the building, but still close enough to see missiles hitting it and blowing it to pieces.

“How long were you a captive of theirs?” Bucky asked, watching the explosion. It was really quite impressive.

“A bit over a week,” Neal answered, quietly. 

“It feels weird to be outside again, doesn’t it?” Bucky asked him, and Neal gave a tentative nod. A second later, and a few vans pulled up-and Neal recognized one of them, and beamed. Peter had finally caught up to him.

Soon, the place was swarming with the FBI, and Peter, Diana, and Clint were all at his side, as the medics were examining him, and the other agents that Neal recognized but didn’t know the names of were carefully dealing with the artwork he’d rescued.

“Neal, what the hell did you do?” Peter asked, as he was staring at the building with fascination.

“It wasn’t me! It was Bucky and his friend Steve!” Neal said, indignantly. “Bucky helped me escape, and-where did he go?” Neal asked, turning around and taken aback as his rescuer was gone. “Bucky?” He asked, sounding doubtful to his own ears. 

A note fluttered down to him, and he caught it and read, 

Sorry for the quick retreat, but I don’t like being around a lot of people. If you want to talk, come to Stark Tower, sometime, I’ll be there. Also, talk to your boss about Shield. I’m sure you would make an excellent agent-with a bit of training. Oh, and don’t worry…I took care of your kidnappers already. You won’t have to worry about them ever again-Bucky Barnes.

Neal smiled as Peter had read the note as well and was spluttering about how it wasn’t possible that it was Bucky Barnes that had given Neal that note, that he hadn’t been rescued by a superhero because they didn’t exist and how El was going to throttle him for getting himself kidnapped again, and…it was a good feeling, being safe once more.

Like he was finally back home.

==

End

**Author's Note:**

> -Thank you for reading.


End file.
